Call me Minerva- the Epic of Pyrrhia, Book I
by Rhodi of the TechWings
Summary: Pyrrhia is larger than it says in the scrolls, and Rhodi should know. Having lived in the hidden TechWing City for her whole life, she is thrilled to be going to Jade Mountain Academy! Aurora, the IceWing princess, thinks differently, for she would rather stay home with her grandmother. What will happen when the two very different dragons meet? Rated T for violence and language.
1. Prologue- Vulcan

Now that Vulcan had the SkyWing egg, he had no idea what to do with it.

He had rescued the egg from a deadly fall down the mountainside, saving it from the wrath of Burn. Vulcan's wife had been struggling to have eggs for years, but countless hours trying to clone eggs or have their own had only worsened the wound of the fact that they would never have a dragonet to call their own. But on the other hand, a SkyWing egg was dangerous property. If the newborn inside was descended from a burnt-out BlazeWing, the dragonet would be taken away, leaving Vulcan and his wife childless.

Or was it a SkyWing egg? It was almost black like the egg of an obsidian CrystalWing, with just a tint of scarlet. The egg had scattered galaxy patterns, of the kind that you would see in the country, with no lights to black out the amazing star show. Such displays never were seen in the city that Vulcan lived in. _Not fair,_ he thought.


	2. Rhodi

I let Marie climb up on my back so I can give her a camel-back ride. She is eight, four years younger than me, but I am still friends with her. She's my adopted sister, so we pretty much have to get along.

"Don't get too riled up," Mom says. "You have to sleep so you aren't snoozing on the first day of school. Polish your fangs and get to bed."

Marie climbs down from my back, letting go of my wings so she can jump down. I fly up to the bathroom and start to polish my teeth. My shawl must be thrown in the hamper; an outfit should be laid out on the foot of the bed. I curl up on the large cushion and fall asleep.

The alarm clock goes off at six. Quickly I turn off the bleeping noise, and then put my clothes on. I have prepared a black jacket with a silver zipper and decorations. It has cool spikes on the shoulders. I grab my shoulder bag and head into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Marie and I eat like savages. I wolf down two tigers and a sun bear, and then wake up Dad so he can take us to school. There, I will go by the name Minerva, Dad by his normal name, and Marie by Aphrodite. The name does suit Marie; she may be the prettiest dragon I've ever met. I grab my chosen weapon- a double-bladed stick (it has a dagger attached to each end) - and put it in a case. Then I join my family as we head to the fabled Mountain of Jade.


	3. Aurora

If the palace at home was huge, Jade Mountain Middle is bigger than the giant goddess Gaea.

The heat of the tropical climate of the mountains sends my frost glands into overload, but the ice melts and I am left soaking wet. I shake off the water, panting from the warm weather.

Many dragons flock the school, but I don't pay attention to them. It was Grandma's idea- "Send the princess of the IceWings to a school in the freaking southern mountains! I'm sure she won't literally have a meltdown at school!" Yeah. Thanks, Grandma. I'm sure that nobody will remember you as Queen Glacier, the monarch who made her heat-sensitive granddaughter go to a school that has burning incense in every hallway and Peril as the head of the Gladiator Team. This will be Hell for me; the warmest school in the history of Pyhhria.

"It's really hot here," Argentum complains. "Can I have another lemon ice?"

One of the many downsides of having a little brother? He will eat your whole cooler of Sno Cone ice- flavored, of course- if you leave it unattended. I refuse him the frozen treat, and he gropes until I drop him off down by the Elementary.

"No," I tell him. "That's your eighth one in, like, five hours. You'll have a sugar rush."

Then, he doesn't give me a proper goodbye. "Hope I don't see you again! I will tell all of my new friends that Aurora is the meanest big sister ever!"

Argentum then walks off with a group of SkyWing boys. I shake my head. Boys confuse me.

Anyway, yay, he's out of my scales. Too tired to fly in the brutal heat much longer, I walk to Jade Middle. The registration cave is just a little too high for me to reach, so I have to climb. A bunch of teen dragons stand panting inside the mouth, just as tired as I am. Though I don't want to walk any longer, I force myself to get into line with all of the other dragons, collapsing into a pile onto the slightly warm floor.

"The name's Aurora, right?"

A deep but feminine voice arouses me. "Yes, Princess Aurora."

"Princess slash headmaster slash outlaw slash General Tsunami. Of the SeaWings. You're an IceWing, right?"

"Yes." I push my slightly tired body off of the floor. "What, did you think I was a SandWing or something?"

"Selene's family, no. That's all I need, you can go to your dorm now." Tsunami hands me a sheet of papyrus, and I glide down the corridor, looking for my dormitory.


	4. Rhodi 2

No matter how hard I try to persuade Aurora, she won't let me call her Eos for short. That quarrel went on pretty long, but here's the shortened version:

ME: Hi, how are you? I'm Rho- (Ugh!) Minerva the SkyWing, what's your name?

ICEWING: I'm Aurora. Of the IceWings. Headmaster Tsunami mistook me for a SandWing.

ME: May I call you Eos?

AURORA: No. Aurora means Aurora, and I don't like nicknames. Stop talking to me.

ME: But Eos is the other name of the dawn goddess that the dragons adapted for their own worship, and she's the same! I'm used to the SkyWing names, anyway.

AURORA: …Says the dragon teen whose name is Minerva and whose father is Vulcan. Say, isn't that the name of some race of scavenger-like species? They said something about Vulcans on this little thing they look at that shows dismembered animals walking around. And they're tiny! Scavengers like whatever they watch on those things. I think the thing they were watching was called Start the Wreck or something. You probably don't know what it is.

ME: Star Trek? Best show ev- (No.) Never heard of it. Can I pleeeease call you Eos? Please?

**Author's note: I have only ever seen one Star Trek episode, and when my history teacher teased me about being a Vulcan and she mentioned Spock… I didn't know who Spock was. And in front of the whole class.**

AURORA: NO!

So, yay, this will be a good year. I have a really grumpy roommate, who I will have to share a dormitory with for the whole year. WOO HOO! I am already _super _pumped up about this school year!


	5. Aurora 2

I am not liking Minerva as a roommate.

So far, she seems overflowing with useless facts, scavenger shows, and her religion. Seriously, why didn't Mom just name me Skadi so we don't have this Aurora-or-Eos problem? It's super annoying.

**Get back on track, Aurora.**

Ugh. The author. I swear she hates me.

**I don't unless you aggravate me. Back to the story, please.**

Fine.

So, anyway, Minerva looks over my shoulder as I write in my journal. I turn my shoulder on her, but she just moves her neck so she can see.

"WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT SO I CAN HAVE SOME PRIVACY?!" I shout in a demanding tone. Then, a little bit more quietly, I add, "I don't like those spikes on your jacket cutting into my scales."

"Sure." Minerva backs away into the corner, maybe to put her stuff into a dresser, maybe to read or write a scroll, I don't know. But yay, she's gone, and I can write in peace. I dip my claw into a pot of ink and continue my story.

_The land was once ridled with scavengers and strange creatures. Scavengers could capture these creatures to be trained as gladiaters, and they got quite good at it. Eos was born. It was the most powerful of all creatures, and flourished in the cold…_

"Aurora!" Minerva's cry startles me. "Your journal is writing itself!"

I look down, and no, she is not lying. The words have literally written themselves on the scroll, forming a story that I could not have written myself. But before I can ponder this more, a voice comes on over the intercom.

"Please pardon the interruption, students. It is 11:00, and time for your potluck lunch with your winglet! Students should meet in their winglet's room, and bring the dishes with them."


	6. Rhodi 3

Moonwatcher has that aura of mystery that is so rare amongst dragons. It marks her as a mind-reader, a sign of sure power that hangs above her like a giant pointy claw…thingy.

**It's not a pointy hand…claw…whatever. The proper term is a manicule.**

Thanks, Narrator, for that useful (not) tidbit of information.

**You are very not welcome. Back to the story.**

So anyways, Moon is a twenty-four year old dragon who is the head of our winglet. She has a navy blue complexion, and starry scales like diamonds scattered across her body. A cloak covers her horns and back.

"Welcome to the Topaz winglet. I'm Moonwatcher. Call me Moon if you like. Now, let's have a little meet-and-greet. Starting off, I'm Moonwatcher, the school's oracle. I can read minds, too, so be warned." She gestures at the SeaWing seated next to her. "Starting with the SeaWing, let's all introduce ourselves."

The sea dragon squirms on his cushion. He takes a breath in, and then speaks. "My name is Arion Hazlu of the SeaWings. I'm, uh… 9 years old and my birthday is on, hmm, November 20th. I have one- what's it called- brother who's… 14! (If I remember correctly, of course…)

"Well, welcome to the group, Arion, and I hope you're enjoying your education so far. Now, the, (Oh, is that a SandWing or a pale MudWing?)" Moon smiles warmly, but I can see in her eyes that she is slightly embarrassed.

"I'm a SandWing, thank you very much," the diluted brown dragon snaps. "I'm Khepri. Don't talk to me, please, I got a stupid"-he yells a long stream of curse words- "RainWing as my roommate, so of course I'm _slightly_ pissed right now."

Upon hearing this, the RainWing in the seat on my left turns lime green in annoyance.

"Khepri, I don't like swearing very much… Could you please reduce your cussing to a minimum?" Moonwatcher adds a note of anger to her voice. "Next… I want this to be a productive conversation, so let's resume the chatting!"

Haymaker, Geb, Aurora, and Diana give us their names and ages. Finally, it's my turn to speak. I heighten myself in my seat, take in a large gust of air, and…

Suddenly, I realize that I have no plans on what to say. It might not turn out well. _"My name is Cadmus Rhodium of the TechWings! I know that none of you know what a TechWing is, so let me explain."_

Nope. Not happening. I think about what to say for a minute. The whole winglet is staring at me, so I finally start to speak.

"I'm Minerva the SkyWing. My dad is Vulcan and I have a sister named Aphrodite. I like drawing and I signed up for band."

Phew. At least it didn't suck.

Moon arches an eyebrow, but I ignore her skeptical expression.

The lunch passes by quickly, and I eat like a starved MudWing. The lemon ice is far too sour and the curry needs more heat, but all of the food passes down my throat without making me wince. And all this time, Moonwatcher stares at me with a curious look.

She knows my secret.


	7. Aurora 3

"So, why was Moonwatcher looking at you like that all lunch?" I ask Minerva. "Reading your mind or something?"

"Actually, I need to go to Music right now, can we discuss this later?" she says back.

Before I can stop her, Minerva glides down the corridor and disappears from sight. It makes me wonder, is she trying to hide a secret from me? If so, what is that secret?

I try not to let that bother me. I slide my talons into my bag, trying to find my schedule. Where is it? Oh, it's right here. Let's see…

**You have History this hour. The teacher used to be Gill, but now it's Darkstalker. He's an ancient dragon who actually turns out to be a god in the Pyrrhian religion.**

My history teacher is the god of animus dragons. How nice. This school is really weird…

Darkstalker sits all seven students on a giant floor map of Pyrrhia. He makes us sit on our territories, so the SandWing and SeaWing get to really spread out, while the NightWing is snarling at the RainWing who is spread out on the carpet next to him. I have an adequate amount of room up here in the Ice Kingdom, so I'm not complaining.

"Welcome to class, dragonets. I'm Darkstalker, the NightWing god of magic. Let's see… who's here…" Darkstalker shuffles through the immense pile of scrolls on his desk. "Um… Mallard Swampblood!"

A small MudWing raises his hand. "Here!"

"Seshat Paprai!"

"Here!"

"Dewdrop Seamist!"

"Here!"

"Narcissus Cirrus!"

"Here!" The SkyWing who raises his hand is orange and surprisingly… Handsome?

"Gautama Amanita!"

"Here!"

"Aurora Elsa!"

` I hold up my hand. "Here!"

"Last but not least… Skybreaker Darkwing!"

"Right here!"

"Good, everyone's here. Now we can start the learning process. Who knows what the Scorching was?"

My hand goes up before I can stop it. Please, please, don't call on me…

**You just jinxed it…**

…And he inevitably points a claw at me. "Aurora, please tell us what the Scorching was."

I hesitate. "Um… it was when the continents split during a war and we were separated from the other continent, right? The Poky- something- or- other?"

Of course he approves. I didn't want to be the teacher's pet, but he nods with a smile on his face. "Yes, I can't remember the name, but true, true. We did win the war, and most of the scavengers fled to the other continent. The Poky- something continent. Now, who can tell me the famous dragon that started the war on the scavengers?"

Seshat raises her hand. "Um, Sunny Zhu?"

"Yes, exactly. So, Sunny Zhu waged war on the scavengers a little over 5,000 years ago, when the planet was still pretty young…"

Darkstalker keeps up his lecture, occasionally pausing to ask questions to random students. My mind, on the other hand, is deep in thought. How did I know that? I often suddenly know the answers to questions, but I feel like I've stumbled upon something important. I don't know where that idea about the pokies came from, but this happens way too much. And I always felt like such an outcast…

**You weren't hatched from an egg.**

_No._ I can't know this. This is… I can't…

**Believe it.**

Yes. Thank you.

But I don't _want_ to know this. This will just ruin my life! The narrator is far too honest with me. I really don't like this.

My life is ruined.


	8. Interlude- Glacier

The egg had always been a major topic of gossip in the ice kingdom, even though Glacier hated the reminders that she would never be a grandmother.

It sat there in the royal hatchery, a strangely colored and perfectly round orb, which had not moved for thirteen straight years. They had tried everything to open it, and yet, its secrets remained hidden, the dragonet inside unborn. Baby MudWings, whose instincts as firstborns meant they had to help their siblings hatch, couldn't make a dent with their claws. A blast of liquid nitrogen from an IceWing's mouth, much to Glacier's disappointment, had no effect on the egg, and often resulted in dragons losing their talon barbs. The kingdom would have to stand up to the brutal truth, which the queen was sure would be in all of the tabloid shortscrolls.

There would be no new IceWing princess. The egg would never hatch.

However, there was one last hope. Boreas, the palace scribe, had discovered a seam on the egg, and Glacier thought that maybe the egg would crack open, after all. Glacier hoped it would work, for then the other rulers wouldn't make fun of her. Besides, she would at least have _someone _to inherit the throne (her only daughter had been killed by SeaWings).

Now, Boreas entered the throne room with the strange, half-red, half-white, egg. It was still perfectly preserved, even after all these years. Glacier discreetly stopped slouching and sat, back rigid, upon her throne. She glared at Boreas with indigo eyes.

"The egg," she said. "Has it hatched yet?"

Boreas set the egg on the egg on the cold marble floor next to him. Glacier watched, hardly even blinking, as he bowed down at the foot of the throne.

"Your Majesty, I think it may hatch if we can pry open the crack," Boreas informed her. "Of course, the hatchery has not accommodated dragonets for at least thirty-"

"It does not matter." Glacier cut him off. "May I see it, so I may try to give life to the dragonet inside? "

Boreas sighed, but gave her the vessel anyway. Glacier was excited and nervous and terrified all at the same time, but she kept her face calm. Her claws made strange sounds as they touched the egg.

She found the crack. It was small and easy to miss, so she lost track of it often, but her talons followed the line until they ran into… What?

"BOREAS!" Glacier's face flushed electric blue with blood. "WHAT IS THIS BUTTON? WHY DID YOU NOT TELL ME ABOUT IT?"

Boreas's scales turned even lighter than they had been. He was clearly used to the queen being calmer about scenarios like this.

Glacier sucked in all the air she could and pressed the button. The form of a young dragonet glowed blindingly white in front of her, more than even she could withstand.

"YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN! YOU, BOREAS, OF ALL DRAGONS, RUINED THE KINGDOM! GUARDS, TAKE HIM AWAY!

"But—"

"NOW!"

Glacier turned her face away from the pained IceWing and looked in the direction of the blindingly white dragonet. It had stopped glowing by now, and Glacier immediately had feelings towards it. And it was a girl! Perhaps the IceWings would not be heirless after all.

"Boreas is a fool," Glacier muttered. "But that doesn't matter. You and I will go far together.

"My little Aurora."


	9. Rhodi 4

"Practice your bass drum piece!" Qibli yells after me as I run out of the music room. "Use both sticks on the rolls!"

"Okay! Bye!" I shout back. "See ya!"

I sprint down the hallway as fast as I can. I don't want to face Tsunami's temper because of lateness; I've heard rumors about her being the most hot-tempered staff member. WHY did I sign up for battle class? It's supposedly the most crowded class in the school! Say, where is the room anyway?

I swerve into the next hallway, bumping into a group of gossiping dragonets. They glare at me as I pass them.

"Sorry!" I say.

They don't take their eyes off of me as I run off to get to combat class. I get lots of, "No running or flying in the halls!" and "Hey! Watch it, SkyWing!" -s, but I ignore them and continue to fly to the arena. Down the Sigma hallway, turn onto Psi… YES! I found it! I straighten my bag on my back and walk in.

Tsunami is a twenty-six year old dragon of the SeaWing tribe (duh). Her scales are a lighter shade of navy blue, and she has the royal stripe pattern on the edges of her wings. And is that neck- lace… Blue pearls? That must be _so_ expensive to get.

"Stop staring at my wings, please, class," she growls. "Now when is the gong going to ring?"

Tsunami twiddles her talons. She checks the sundial, which is under the skylight, then grunts when she sees that it'll be a little bit until the gong rings. Right when it looks like she is about to explode, the sound of a large instrument rings throughout the halls. She pulls a relieved face and then pulls out a clipboard from a slot in the side of the sundial and takes roll call.

"Let's see. Everglade is here, Sobek is here, Minerva, Aurora, Airbreaker, Bering, Amazon… Amazon? You here? WHERE'S AMAZON?!"

Awkward silence. Flapping noises from the hall. A tangerine-colored RainWing bursts in through the cave opening.

"Here!" the dragon that must be Amazon says. "Sorry I'm late; I got caught up in a hall fight!"

I notice that one of her wings is a little bit scorched on the edge of the membrane.

"Uh-huh," Tsunami says. "I'm sure you did. Now, stand in line next to Bering. He's the IceWing in the iron breastplate. Let's continue roll call, please, dragonets.

"Frostbite!"

A silvery-blue IceWing steps forwards. He's kinda handsome, but I already have a boyfriend. Though, a couple of dragonets are giving him flirting looks. I look away, thinking about Ogetsuno… But I can't. NightWings sometimes have mindreading powers. It would be embarrassing for some dragon to spill the beans on my love life.

"All right, stop giving him those looks. I don't care if he's 'cute' or whatever, just STOP STARING AT THE POOR DUDE! Now, who else is here…?

"Splash! Darkwing! Isis!"

Funny; I thought Isis was a rogue group of SandWings.

**It's a goddess in one of the religions, Rhodi.**

It is? Huh. I thought I studied that enough.

Anyway, Tsunami finishes the roll call and starts class. I watch her closely, not wanting to miss anything. She pulls herself behind the sundial, trying to look official.

"Okay… Let's start this party! So, class rules first. What is the number one rule?"

Isis raises her hand. "Have fun?"

"That is pretty important, but it's not the most important," Tsunami says. "Anyone else?"

Frostbite steps forwards. "Try not to kill anyone."

"Yep! I know it's called battle training, but we don't kill our fellow dragons. Now for the other rules. I'll try to get through them pretty fast.

"Don't set fire to the training dummies!"

I would be very tempted to, considering how ugly the manikins are. You can see the straw poking out in places, and I don't recognize the fabric.

"No swearing!"

I want to say "crap" just to get on her nerves, but I don't. I look down at my claws and keep listening to her lecture.

"(Wow, the stars are already out.) Being late or absent without a reason results in a detention. This is for a certain RainWing who got into a fight…"

Amazon curls her wings around her and changes her scales so she is almost invisible.

"I see you, Amazon Hippolyta. Don't try to hide."

"Now, the last rule. NO FIREBREATH, FROSTBREATH, OR VENOM because they are very deadly. Now—"

_BONG._

"Crap," Tsunami mutters as everyone flies out. "We were just getting to the fun part!"

I sprint to the prey center, bumping into several dragons on the way. My jacket spikes are probably the main cause for the many shouted insults, but I don't care. I need to eat some mountain goat!

Clay is serving fried cow to a group of MudWings. Behind the counter, Peril is holding a camel in her talons, roasting it to a perfect level of wellness. Several dragons sit at tables, eating their shark meat or alpaca or jackfruit. It's mildly chaotic…

I fly a couple feet above the ground to the counter. Despite the crowd, there is no line to get food. That's a good thing; I'm super hungry.

"Hi, sweetheart," Peril says. "What do you want to eat?"

"Just four bighorn rams, please," I say. "Medium-well."

"Of course, miss…"

"Minerva," I finish. "My last name's Pallas."

"Well, I'll be just a minute, Minerva. It'll be out real fast, I promise."

Watching her cook, I realize why they made Peril chef. She whips out a pair of rubber tongs, using them to pull out a long board of wood. She then holds it for a second, which sets it on fire. I think she has too much fire, but I'm not sure. Then, Peril opens a small metal crate, letting four sheep loose. One stab with a claw, and they're dead. She pulls out two skewers, and then stabs two on each. Five minutes over the fire, and bam.

"Thanks!" I say as she slips the shish kebabs over the counter.

"No prob, sweet!"

I fly over the room, until I spot a table with a lone IceWing seated at it. I descend from the air, then sit next to Aurora.

"Why are you here?" she asks over her walrus.

I ignore the question. "Earlier, you asked why Moon was staring at me.

"I think it's time you knew my true tribal blood."


	10. Aurora 4

"You're not a SkyWing?" I say over my walrus. "I'm not sure how you could be from any other tribe."

Minerva gives me a slightly rueful look. "I said we would talk about why I was nervous about Moonwatcher later. That was earlier today. I think we can discuss it now."

"But SkyWings are the only Pyrrhian tribe with red scales. How could you even be a hybrid?" I wonder.

"This is a very dangerous secret," Minerva says. She takes a couple bites of mutton. "We have not trusted the seven elder tribes with this information for ages. If you told someone, it would all be over."

"Wow. That sounds like a very, um, dangerous secret." I can't believe she trusts me with this secret. "If it's so risky to tell me about it, why are you telling me this on the first day you know me? Also, I wonder how anyone can stand _burnt_ meat. It's _so_ undignified to eat that."

"It's _grilled _meat," Minerva snaps. "Four of the tribes you know of eat it on a regular basis. What _I _want to know is how you can eat all of the blubber on that… mammal."

"It's a WALRUS! Don't make fun of my tribe!"

"Well, your tribe _clearly _doesn't care about culinary refinement."

**AURORA! MINERVA! NOT HELPING!**

"Never mind," Minerva takes a huge bite out of one of her sheep, clearly trying very hard to make the juice from the meat on the black and ruined kebab drizzle 'torturously' down her chin. "The narrator says to stop getting distracted.

"Let's get to the point. I'm not a SkyWing at all. I'm a TechWing, which is a hidden tribe which you have probably never heard about. Now, let's pretend that I never told you this at all, so we can all ignore my short outburst of candor and live happily and innocently forever."

"What's candor? Wait… WHAT?"

"It means brutal honesty. And yes, what I just said is the truth, I swear upon the Styx. My parents wanted me to come here so I could have a better education. I couldn't turn it down."

I can't believe this. "If you aren't a SkyWing, what are you? You look so convincing."

Minerva loses her temper. She spreads her wings so she looks larger than she is. This also reveals golden swirls on their undersides. "Are you blind?! Do you not see the patterns on my wings? My RIBBED HORNS?!"

A couple of SandWings at a nearby table drop their forks and stare at the outraged, um, non-SkyWing.

"Don't judge me," I whisper. "This wasn't my idea."

"You seriously _cannot tell _that SkyWing scales are not this dark. How unobservant are you?"

Sheesh… SkyWings get angered easily. (Stop it, Aurora, she's not a SkyWing.)

I look up and survey the room. Every table less than two hundred feet away from us is staring at Minerva. It doesn't help that lots of dragonets are giving _me_ suspicious looks, too.

"Also," Minerva continues, "leather is hard to get in the mountains. Explain my leather jacket. How can you not tell that I am a TECHWING?!"

By now, the whole school is staring wide-eyed at this outburst of anger. Nobody takes a bite of catfish or a sip of guava juice. The whole cafeteria is silent, except for the quiet sound of meat sizzling between Peril's claws.

''We have to go," Minerva says. "I don't know if we can stay here any longer."

I hastily finish my walrus and put my tray on the counter. A pair of sizzling-hot claws takes the tray and puts it in the water basin. My eyes meet with Peril's and we share the same look: _ This is not good._

Minerva gestures to me in the universal sign for _follow me_. I fly across the cafeteria to her. Except for a small group of SeaWings, the room is still silent, with all eyes on us.

"Let's go."

We fly down the hall, hoping to escape from the awkwardness of the situation. Minerva is about twenty wingbeats ahead of me, but I don't care. All that matters is that we get out of there.

"Come on, come on," I hear her mutter. "I know that our dorm is- HERE!"

I push aside the door and jump onto the mattress. There is probably a huge crowd out there in the hallway…

"Should I get my stuff?" I ask.

"_Yes,_ you should pack up as quickly as possible. We should go."

I grunt, but pack up my belongings and put my backpack on again, lemon ice cooler in talon. Minerva? She even has a belt with a dagger on it, which I have not seen yet. I wonder where she got it from.

We step outside of the room and head down the hall. Same as last time, Minerva is way ahead of me. But something makes her stop dead in her tracks.

A group of NightWings confronts Minerva, appearing out of nowhere. (Technically, they appeared out of the intersecting corridor, but still.)

"Hello, _SkyWing,"_ a NightWing says as he flies out from the other hallway. "Nice job hiding your secret."

"You were _always_ hurting our tribe's dragonets, _Igneous of the CrystalWings," _Minerva growls back. "_Why _are you here?"

Igneous gives an evil laugh. "Oh, just so I could kill your WHOLE TRIBE OFF! You, Rhodi, are the only dragon stupid enough to go here, _UNDER THE NAME MINERVA, _and expect to live. Oh, and I have your sister. Tell us where your hatchery is, and she lives."

"Your name is Rhodi?" I whisper into her ear.

"Cadmus Rhodium, actually," she says. "My parents thought I would be a boy, so they named me Cadmus. Rhodi is just a nickname."

"Stop. Talking." Igneous snaps, "or Marie dies. Bring her forwards!"

The group behind the CrystalWing parts. A tangerine and very terrified dragon is taloncuffed in the middle of the clearing. That must be Marie, because Min- no, Rhodi- gasps and lunges forwards to hug her.

Two dragons block her with their claws. "Oh no, you don't," one says. "Give us the location of the hatchery, and she's yours. If you don't, she dies. Which do you choose?"

"Don't do it," Marie whispers. "Rhodi-"

Another CrystalWing covers her mouth before she can say more.

I step back, not wanting to get involved in this.

Rhodi hesitates before saying, "The hatchery is-"

I start running and bump into her. "Don't do this, Rhodi."

Igneous sharpens his claws on the stone. He turns towards the TechWing beneath my claws. "Well, I guess you can live without a sister, then. Boys, kill her."

"NO!" I can't believe this is happening. Rhodi's sister is in mortal danger. I can't let this happen. I swipe my claws, even though I know it will be useless and will not do anything. But I act on instinct, anyway, and do it.

Suddenly, I understand why I did that. Even though I would normally only see this in a dream, even though I only slashed at thin air, Igneous staggers and falls, blood trickling out of the new crack in his obsidian scales.

I have hurt him without touching anything. I'm a monster.


	11. Rhodi 5

"Aurora!" I gasp. "What did you just do?"

The IceWing makes a face that is surprised and horrified and impressed at the same time. I'm not sure what to make of the impressed part.

"I don't know. It's weird."

Wow, descriptive! "Just go, okay?"

Aurora somehow gets Marie to follow her, and the two dragons noisily bound down the corridor, claw clicks upon claw clicks. Meanwhile, I can't run, for I am surrounded on all sides by intruders.

I kick at a CrystalWing. Big mistake on my part. You don't want an igneous dragon mad at you. Sure, the CrystalWings are normally lightheaded and sometimes inebriated from all that partying that they do. But cross them, and they can launch an attack that makes you wish you were never born. An angry CrystalWing can leave scars that will never heal, burns that will sting for your whole life. I've seen plenty of CrystalWing attack victims; my mother handles war-damaged dragons every day. (Mom is a surgeon at a major hospital.)

The dragon shoots a mouthful of one-thousand-degrees-_Celsius _melted metal at me. I pray to Mars that it won't hit where I least want it to; will not cripple my only strength for life…

As would happen no matter what, it hits me in that exact place. I turn around to deliver a spinning elbow, and something searingly hot hits both of my wings at once. The opposing dragon makes no effort to dodge my attack; he just stands there, a knowing look on his face as I shriek and am dragged down by the sudden extra weight on my back, the rock cool enough to weight me down, hot enough to cause me misery. I will never fly again, but I try not to focus on that. I just keep breathing out acetylene, which bursts into flame right in their faces.

**Tell the reader what acetylene is.**

Oh, right! Thanks, narrator! You know the myths about each dragon having fire within them? (Huh. _The Fire Within. _Sounds like a good name for a scroll.) That stuff about the "inner fire" of dragons is just an urban legend. It's just highly flammable gases, usually either methane or hydrogen, depending on the tribe. MudWings have methane glands that let them breathe fire, as do SandWings and BlazeWings. This makes it harder for them to breathe fire because methane is not as flammable as some other gases, so the air has to be warm enough so the gases can ignite. SkyWings and NightWings breathe hydrogen, which basically catches fire no matter what. IceWings breathe nitrogen, and I have unusual fire glands that use acetylene. CrystalWings don't have the right kind of respiratory system to use flammable gases, which means I'm safe from firebreath.

Unfortunately, this means that they can give you a nasty faceful of sulfur or phosphorus.

The smell of rotten eggs fills the air, and I am tempted to plug my nose with my claws. I'm just ready to give up. WAIT—the bossy _narrator _says I can't!

**I never said that.**

The pain and weight on my wings only increases as the molten rock cools. My chest muscles are strong, but I can still barely hold up my wings. I try to keep them at my sides, though. Drooping wings won't help me in battle.

**Just run. Fight scenes are **_**exhausting.**_

Fine, I will! Don't bug me like that!

I bolt through a small gap in the crowd. I wish this was all a scroll or movie, because then I would have a stunt double, and wouldn't have to deal with fighting bad guys.

_**Oh… **_**that is hilarious…**

What? This is my LIFE, you know!

**Nothing. Just… oh gosh… go to the library… I gotta go wipe my eyes…**

Wow, the narrator is weird! However, they do give good advice, and it just happens that Peril is taking a break after so much cooking; she's reading a stone tablet just outside of the library. One glimpse of this strange display, though, and she sets the reading

"I'll take the NightWings," she whispers as I shoulder open the door. "You can go read or whatever. I can fight. Go!"

I try to object- I can't leave her with these dragons! - But Peril shoves me in with burning claws.

Plenty of violent noises radiate from the door, and I wince. It sounds like Peril is doing a good job, and I hope that's true. But what if it's not?

I hope it is. However, I don't want to face the truth. I carefully tuck in my wings, not wanting to knock over any shelves, and find the librarian.

The NightWing at the desk in the middle is reading a copy of _Life of Cosine, _one of his eyes scanning the papyrus like his life depends on it. The other one is glazed over, and I'm assuming he's blind in that one. A sheet of thin, nose-fitted glass sits on the table. Guess he's nearsighted in his good eye. I ring on the small gong on the floor next to me with a claw, and he looks up from his scroll with one intelligent eye. He puts on his glasses, then looks across the desk curiously.

"Good evening, miss-"

"Um, just call me Minerva for now," I say. "I don't want to give away my true identity."

"Well, hello, Minerva. I'm StarFlight, the school librarian. I heard you're not a SkyWing. What are you, then?"

"I'm sworn to secrecy about this," I lie, "and NightWings don't need to know any more secrets. Now may I check out a copy of _Cinder_?"

"Sure, I don't want to appear like the rest of my evil tribe," StarFlight consents. "BUT I really won't publish a scroll or anything if you tell. Your secret is safe."

I thank him, heading to the science-fiction section. Battle sounds are terrible background noise, but I _try _to ignore it…

I find the scroll and bring it to the check-out table. StarFlight briefly puts down _Life of Cosine _and helps me register the reading points on my card. But he doesn't go back to exploring the world of dragonets on boat crashes. Instead, he pulls up his cushion even closer to me and decides to inquire me more on my tribe.

"Sorry to be nosy, but I really want to know about your tribe. May I have some information on the TechWings?"


	12. Aurora 5

"So, if the name of your tribe is the TechWings, shouldn't you be an automaton?" I ask Marie.

She gives me a very offended look. "That would be _CogWings_," she says. "Do I _look _like a robot? Last time I checked, I don't."

Just to prove her point, Marie slides a claw across her wrist. A thin line of red blood appears. "See?" she says smugly. "A _robot _wouldn't have _blood._"

"What's a robot?" I wonder.

Marie groans so loudly, a few dragonets standing by easels nearby perk up and shush us. "You're hopeless, aren't you?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." I survey the art room. It seemed safe in here, but I'm starting to doubt that. Mightyclaws is not the most attentive teacher in Pyrrhia. He sits at his desk on the loft, not quieting the rowdy art contest going on, but reading a scroll on the ancient Villas Empire. A group of dragonets is recruiting participants for the contest. I'm pretty obsessed with art, so I tap Min- Rhodi, dang it! - Anyway, I tap Marie on the shoulder and she turns around.

"What is it?"

"I'm going to enter the art contest."

"So?"

"Aren't you joining, too?"

"I don't know," she says. "I'm pretty terrible at painting."

"Well," I say, "it'll be fun. Come on!"

She consents to advising me on the quality of my work. I walk leisurely over to the sign-up counter for the contest and ask to enter.

"One entry, please," I request. "For Aurora, the princess of the IceWings."

The SeaWing with the list of names speaks in his funny accent. "The full name would be Aurora Diadem Elsa, right? I mean, Your Majesty."

"No need for the 'your majesty,'" I correct. "All that matters is that you have my name down. When do we start?"

The SeaWing has that I-just-remembered-something-important look on his face. "Right, right. We should start right now. It'd be nice if we had a NightWing, though…"

Suddenly, the door busts open. A very dark red dragon crashes in. She looks like she's sorry, but honestly, this kind of perfect timing only happens in scrolls.

**Why are you—oh, never mind. On with the story!**

"Sorry!" Rhodi says. "I can stand in for a NightWing. TechWings are more closely related to them than SkyWings, anyway."

Khepri, the SandWing in our Winglet, narrows his eyes at her. "Why are you here, _Automaton Girl?_"

Rhodi wills her nostrils to smoke. "Well, I'm here to paint. And I'm not a robot, _Ram-head._"

Khepri snarls. "You didn't."

"Oh yes, I did." Rhodi smirks. "I know what the stupid _sunset god_ you were named for looks like. Khepri has the head of a stupid _sheep. _Scrolls don't lie. You should _know_ that I just spent good time in the library researching your stupid religion. Want me to tell them what _Heket _looks like?"

"Don't. You. Dare," the sand dragon snarls. "Now, I can tell everyone how the goddess Minerva was born, if you want."

"Um, are you going to enter the contest?" The SeaWing at the registration table succeeds in breaking up the quarrel. Rhodi, or Minerva, or Cadmus, or WHOEVER SHE IS, actually obeys and enters.

"One, please," she says, in a falsely cheery tone. "For Rhodi."

"Can I have a last name, please?"

"No." She glares across the table. "Then everyone would call me Cadmus. Just put it down like I said, okay?"

"Okay, then." The SeaWing makes a few marks on the page, then gestures towards an unoccupied easel. "That one's yours. The contest starts soon."

He continues. "Now that everyone's here, we can start. To your right, you have a large assortment of paints, charcoal, pastels, and other tools. All are permitted. Now don't copy, don't replicate the _Mona Lisa, _and don't kill anyone. Got it?"

"Three..."

I glance down the line of supplies. I'm bad with paints, and pastels smear too easily and leave oily marks on my claws.

"Two…"

The only things I haven't ruled out are the charcoal and the graphite stylus, but do I really want to risk charcoal?

"One. GO!"

I make a hasty grab for the stylus and apply it to the canvas. Other dragonets are making similar fumbles for supplies. Khepri is using crushed gem paint, a MudWing from my history class is picking up the pastels, and Rhodi has found herself a small wooden box of watercolors. Khepri and Rhodi keep glaring over the tops of their canvases at each other.

I force myself into my work. The page is big and white and empty, and I feel like it should be filled. But what to fill it with? I'm not sure, but the information that Rhodi told me earlier should be a good subject…

I sketch out a big circle onto my paper. It'll be a good start to my drawing, and I'm good at drawing objects. Next, I draw a line splitting the circle in half. A few details later, I'm ready to shade it. I'm not _that _good at shading, but oh well. I just keep scrumbling in the areas that need shading. Half an hour later, I'm done.

"Wow," Marie whispers in my ear, "that was fast. Are you _sure_ you're done?"

"I'm sure," I say.

"Okay then," she replies. "Approved! But what is it?"

I realize I don't know what I drew, either. "Nothing. I just made something up."

She nods. I walk around and peek at the other canvases. The MudWing is not the best at oil pastels. He has drawn up a very ugly still life, with his apples floating and his sunflowers looking lopsided. I don't think he'll win. Khepri's, though I hate him already, I must admit is very good. He decided to work with the crushed gems, so it sparkles in the light, and the hieroglyph-like patterns are very detailed. Rhodi's is cool, from what I can see, but she turns a shoulder so I can't see what she's painting. A RainWing I don't recognize has gone full-out Holi on her canvas; she is throwing crushed dried fruit onto her work area… and not to mention onto everything surrounding it. Several dragonets stationed near her are brushing papaya off their shoulders.

I shake the lychee powder off of my wings and look up at Mightyclaws. He is still halfway through his scroll, and not paying any attention to the intense contest going on below him.

"Fifteen minutes remaining!" The SeaWing's announcement startles me so much that I almost knock over my canvas. I then realize what he said, so I make a few finishing touches on the canvas and sign my name in black ink.

"Five minutes!"

I'm ready for the next announcement. I jump back a little when he yells the time out, but mostly stay anchored to the ground. The other dragons- besides the MudWing- don't do anything; they're all too absorbed in their paintings and drawings.

I realize how boring this is, to wait. But my drawing is finished, so I don't have anything to do. I twiddle my claws; stare off into space; check to make sure everything is done. I'm not having much fun, but what is there to do? There's no way I'll be un-bored soon.

"TIME IS UP!"

"Aah!" The RainWing was just scrambling to get banana powder onto her canvas. Now, she is trying to wash the plant powder off of her talons in the water basin.

"You can stop that now, Plataña," the SeaWing orders. "We all have paint on our claws. It's pointless to wash it off."

Plataña's scales turn gray-blue, but she shakes the water off of her claws anyway.

"Great. Now we can start the judging."

Our sea dragon host rounds up the participants and takes us to the first canvas. On it is a picture of a dreamvisitor done in chalk pastels.

"Will the dragonet who painted this please step forwards?"

A _real_ SkyWing- no, not Minerva, or whatever her name is- responds. "I made it!"

"Okay, then, Nut. You made a very interesting picture. I like that you chose the dreamvisitor for a subject- very creative decision- but you got the blue way toobright." The SeaWing seems to know Nut is offended, and adds, "You did a good job on the shading, though."

"Let's move on to the next picture," he continues.

The group moves forwards. As we walk, a stupid question comes to mind.

"Why would you name a dragon _Nut?_" I wonder aloud. "She must get teased a lot."

"It's the name of the _sky goddess,"_ Khepri mutters rudely, bumping my shoulder. "Is everyone going to make fun of my religion today?"

I shake my head no, not wanting to do any more stupid things today than I have already done. Khepri smirks with evil in his eyes. Nut, meanwhile, appears very embarrassed and hurries to the next masterpiece, in an effort to get away from me. The group stops at Plataña's splatter painting.

"This one, I believe, belongs to Mallard. Correct me if I'm wrong."

He _is_ wrong. I let its owner handle that, though.

"It's mine!" Plataña says. "Mallard's is pretty bad, I must say, so then this must be mine! It's an awesome abstract rendering of a cornucopia—like it? I used powdered lychee skin for the actual cornucopia, and crushed dried fruit for the actual, um, _fruit. _And to top it all off, I painted a ton of flowers onto the edges of the horn! It was, like, _so hard, _but I did it anyway! I hope it wins!"

Mallard frowns. I'm not sure he's used to being offended like that.

Whatever his name is- I DON'T WANT TO KEEP CALLING OUR HOST 'THE SEAWING'- seems to like it. He gives a claws-up for creativity and emotion- "I painted a cornucopia because I was hatched in one!" explains Plataña- but squints because of the bright colors used on it.

"It's just a tad bit saturated," mister SeaWing explains, "but very creative. Otherwise, I love it."

Plataña nods happily, scales still the colors of roses and dandelions . I'm not sure she knows what 'saturated' means. RainWings are like that sometimes. They have a large potential for learning, but sometimes don't use it correctly, kind of like my brother Argentum losing to me when we play animation games.

**To all the people reading this—animation games are the Pyrrhian equivalent of what we call video games. Aurora is amazing at them, and she **_**knows **_**it. My advice is not to challenge her on it.**

I think the narrator is losing her marbles!

**Nothing. Forget I ever said that. **

Okay then.

Where were we…? Okay, right now, we are right by the MudWing, Mallard's, canvas. I'm not going to tell you what the host is telling him, but it's pretty nasty. It's also making me aware of the flaws in my own work. His glass vase isn't transparent, and he mostly just scribbled a bunch of lines onto his canvas. Plus, the colors are all wrong.

"It's not very good," Mister SeaWing says. (You know, I think I'm just going to call him Mister.) "You didn't do a good job on the colors, and I don't like the idea of combining apples and papaya in the same painting."

"But I'm _color-blind_," Mallard complains. "How can I tell if the apples are purple?"

"Why are you in this contest, then?" Mister asks. "If you're colorblind, why are you even participating?"

Mallard mutters something about an art major and his father.

"What?"

"My father wants me to take up art. I don't want to disappoint him." Mallard looks at the floor. Plataña approaches him, her scales fuchsia and gray, the colors of sympathy. Mallard seems somewhat comforted, and actually snuggles up to him.

Khepri curses about "moon-crossed lovers". I cautiously step to the side, not wanting to get in his way.

"Come on," I hiss at the temperamental SandWing, "just because Plataña is consoling Mallard doesn't mean they're _boyfriend _and _girlfriend, _idiot!"

He grunts just as the group stops at the next piece. The canvas has a large amount of hieroglyphs painted onto it—Khepri's, if I remember correctly. It's completely amazing, but it's hard to appreciate the beauty when such a mean dragon painted it.

"Mine!" Khepri yells. "Since all the others are inferior, this one must be mine!"

Great. He's not only a bully, but a glorydon as well.

**Excuse me, but how do you know the definition of 'glorydon'?**

Um… I just made it up. It's another word for, I think… glory hog?

**You've been reading my journal off-set, haven't you? Please don't. The thing about the Lego takeover is **_**private.**_  
Cool! I'll go read it now! No, um… of course I wasn't. Your secret is safe with- I mean _from_ me!

_**Riiight.**_

Anyway, what's happening is that Mister is praising Khepri's work. The way Khepri is flashing cheesy smiles almost makes me sick. I ignore the enthusiastic Mister and Khepri and twiddle my talons. I'm glad when we move on to the next canvas, which is a portrait of a dark red SkyWing-looking dragon. It's clearly a she, and the dragon is writing a scroll at her desk. The detail is amazing. And the dragon looks familiar.

"Rhodi?" Mister asks, not taking his eyes off of the watercolor. "Is this one yours?"

She hesitates. I can see she doesn't want to answer his question.

"Yes."

"It's amazing." Mister isn't lying. He hasn't moved at all, save to breathe and speak. "Pretty good, for two hours."

Rhodi blushes. Clearly she is not used to the praise. I'm not sure the TechWing kingdom has art critics.

"Good job," Mister says. "You did amazing on the colors."

"Thanks."

We stop at the SkyWing's canvas- "Why this picture of daggers aimed at ex-Queen Scarlet?" Criticizes Mister. "Because she ruined our kingdom forever," Asgard explains- before we move on to mine. I didn't know it when I was working, but it looks just like the descriptions of my egg that Grandma gave me. The darker half, the band down the middle, the circle… it's an exact match. But it looks like an inanimate object, not an egg.

"Nice job on the shading," Mister says. "What is it?"

"My egg." Mister arches an eyebrow, so I explain. "It just turned all weird when Mom was keeping it up in the mountains, okay? She dropped it off by the royal hatchery the night after- she was the princess, anyway- and vanished. And yes, that means that the Zoology teacher is my uncle."

**Uncle Winter! (I don't know why I just said that.)**

(Come on! It's embarrassing!)

"Great job," he says. "It looks like we have a three-way tie. The winners are…"

Khepri is one of them; I just know it.

"Khepri."

Rhodi must have won, too. How could she _not_ have?

"Rhodi."

I messed up on the shading. I didn't win.

"Princess Aurora."

I won? I shouldn't have. I only used the animation games back home.

"We need a tiebreaker," Mister says. "One painting each for you three. Start—NOW!

Then Khepri's scales start to wither, and the light brown layer gives in to a layer of dark pink, spiky scales, and he lunges, knocking both my clawmate and me to the cool stone floor.

"HallowWings don't lose to two of the weakest tribes in Pyrrhia," Khepri (is he Khepri?) growls. "Pay the price, Cadmus the Cripple."

The pure presence of his claws makes me feel weaker, but I can't let it show. I'm the heir to the kingdom. I _have _to be strong.

"You do realize you come from a tribe of fairy dragons, right?" Rhodi snarls, which only makes him transfer even more of his weight onto our chests. "My boyfriend would_ hate_ you."

Rhodi keeps trash-talking him, ignoring the noises coming from her (probably cracked) ribcage, but I can barely breathe. How our opponent can press this hard, I don't know, but he keeps pressing.

"You might as well go off to your nest, _Tink_," Rhodi says tauntingly. (Note to self: find out what Tink means. I'm just going to assume it's an offensive nickname used for HallowWings, or whatever Khepri is.)

"It's your impending doom," Khepri growls at her. "And don't call me Tink."

He slams his legs down hard into our chests. Rhodi cries out in agony, though probably not as badly hurt as I am, and the art room fizzles out around me.


	13. Part Two- The War of Pyrrhia

_Be gone with the lives of thousands,_

_Be gone with the ways of old._

_No more Fields of Elysium,_

_No more days of gold._

**PART TWO**

The Battle of Pyrrhia


	14. Rhodi 6

"How long has it been since Aurora blacked out?" I ask Orchid. The famed healer looks down at her talons and shakes her head.

"Two days now. And I already told you, she's awake, but she hasn't been talking to anyone or even getting out of bed. We've been packing her bed with snow and ice, but it's not helping," she explains, her voice bordering on impatient.

I sigh. "Can I at least see her, though? I'm kind of lonely without a roommate."

"Yes," Orchid says, "but you're not staying in there for more than twenty minutes!"

I push aside the curtain separating Orchid's office from the place with all the beds—what was it called? Anyway, Aurora is in there. She sits up in bed and glares at me. I can see dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Hi," I say. "Are you recovering okay?"

She points a claw towards the door.

**She says **_**out.**_

"Okay, I'll go. But I did bring a jar of candy."

I reach for my bag and pull out some candy. Aurora takes the jar from my claws with shaking arms and tries to open it. She fails miserably.

"Here," I volunteer, "I'll get that for you."

Aurora hands me the candy and I remove the top of the jar. I stick my claw in and pull out a caramel, giving it to her. She smiles as she bites into it.

"How is it?" I ask.

**She thinks it's good.**

"Good. Can I stay?"

Aurora leans in. Then, in a whisper, she says:

"No. Now shoo!"

I leave the bunk room. Orchid is waiting at her desk.

"How'd it go?" she asks. "I told you Aurora wasn't talking."

"She whispered, 'get out'," I argue. "She's talking."

"Huh," Orchid wonders, "that doesn't normally happen."

"Whatever," I mutter as I leave the room. I'm going to inevitably be late for my first science lesson, and Mastermind has this bad history of abusing his test subjects. I race-walk down to the labs. Though I'm going faster than most teachers would allow, the gong rings when I'm right outside the science room. Inside, Mastermind shoots me an annoyed look.

"Miss Rhodium," Mastermind says grumpily, "you're late."

"I was checking up on my clawmate in the healer's room," I complain. "Aurora hasn't been talking to anyone or even been out of bed for two days."

I add, "Though she did talk to me after I gave her a caramel."

"That's funny," Mastermind says. "That hasn't happened in all of recorded medical history. Did you put anything in the candy?"

"Nothing," I deny, "those things already have so much artificial coloring that IrisWings think they look too bright. I didn't tell her that, though. She didn't need to know."

"Well, I think we've chatted long enough. Go to your desk, please. It's the third one in the second row."

I sling my bag over the back of the chair, then sit down. Mastermind starts up his class. Turns out he's going to give us a pop quiz—on the very first day.

"Okay, I'm going to give you guys a very hard quiz. You will have two minutes to finish, and you must follow the instructions _exactly. _Does anyone have any questions?"

I feel a sheet of papyrus between my talons. I unfurl the scroll and peer down at the sheet below.

_Following Directions_

_This is a timed test—you only have 2 minutes to complete._

I can live with that. I can do things pretty quickly when I want to.

I look up at the board. Mastermind is holding a sundial up to the light. He gives us the countdown, then lets us start.

The test looks pretty easy:

_1-Read the whole test before you start filling it out._

It seems like I can ignore that. Next question, please!

_2-Using a graphite stylus, put your full name at the top of the paper._

Yep. Who _doesn't _do that?

_3-Draw a square around the title of the test._

I swear I saw this in an issue of _Wired…_ but I draw the square anyway.

_4-Stand up and say, "This test is easy!"_

_5-Horozantally down the left, write, "That's what you think."_

_6-Draw the Pyrrhian insignia in the bottom right-hand corner._

_7-Fold the paper in half lengthwise, then unfold._

_8-Stand up and twirl._

_9-Border the page with a squiggly line._

All goes smoothly until I see the last question.

_10-Now, if you have been following the directions, you will have only followed directions 1, 2, and 10. Good work. Pretend to keep working on the test. See how many of your classmates _really _know how to follow directions._

"UGH!" I rage through clenched teeth. I try to erase as much as I can of my answers, but ten seconds in, the dreaded sound booms through the room-"Time's up!"

Mastermind strolls down the room. "You failed, you failed, Rhodi, you realized what I did with the test but you still failed. _All_ of you. Does nobody follow directions anymore?"

"Sorry," I mumble. Mastermind squints at me just as the gong rings.

"Go," he says as I pick up my shoulder bag. "All of you."

Not that I want to stay. I would fly, but I kind of have a giant hole in my wing right now from that CrystalWing attack, so I can't, so I walk down to the dorm room. A familiar icy voice greets me.

"Cadmus Rhodium," Aurora says, "what did you _put _in those caramels?"

"Nothing," I deny. "Why are _you _awake?"

"Something to do with the caramel," she explains. "It's, like, magic or something. Candy saves lives. I'll remember that."

"Okay. Next time someone gets knocked out, I should give them candy," I say. "I didn't know they had medicinal properties."

A fiery streak crosses the sky above the skylight. I frown.

"Look at that," I say. "That looks like a BlazeWing trying to attack me. Did you pack a weapon?"

Aurora shakes her head.

"Well, get one from the combat room, Aurora!" I order. "They're attacking!"

She obeys. I wave to her and then face my greater issue.

My wing needs to be patched up. I pull out a sheet of nylon and a needle from my suitcase- Hey, I sew sometimes, okay? - And start to stitch the nylon to the hole in my wing. As I complete the task, my face scrunches up in concentration. The buzz of the conversations going on outside seems to fade away as the world dissolves into complete misery from the quick fix.

I pull out my dagger and fly out the skylight. The new patch stings like Thanatos, but I try to ignore it. Behind me, Aurora bursts out of the combat room with a bow and arrows.

My weapon plunges into the wing of the BlazeWing. I notice that her scales don't burn like those of most members of her tribe. I also notice that they have treasure on their backs and a line of BlazeWings on their trail.

The dragon faces me with abnormally huge eyes. "Get off of me! I have a home I need to get back to!"

"And why are you flying _away _from the BlazeWing kingdom?" I snarl, clenching my teeth. "Wait… You aren't a BlazeWing, are you?"

"What's a BlazeWing?" she asks. "And let go of my wing."

I don't let go, even though we're nowhere near the academy right now and I'm being tossed around like crazy from this dragon's frantic flapping. "You… What?"

"BlazeWings," she asks. What are they?"

"The dragons you stole the treasure from, _idiot." _I dig my claws deeper into the membrane to stay on. "Were you born under a rock?"

"Uh… No."

"You're acting like it! What are you, anyway?"

Her face falls. "Mother told me the legends… But we're the only beings in creation, aren't we? I mean… No… you aren't…

A silver arrow pierces the dragon's wing a few inches away from me. She glares in the direction it came from, and then shakes me off as she cries in agony, dropping me into the rainforest below.

I plummet helplessly through the air. I don't have my wings… No, I do. I patched them up. It hurts, but I can open my hurt wing.

I spread my wings when I'm a few feet above the forest floor. I don't have time to bend my knees, though, so the impact still hurts and a few parrots squawk and fly away. I curse and move forwards slowly.

I'm under a huge cliff, and there are huge trees and flowers everywhere. The soil is the exact same consistency as clay and looks like it too. Birdsong rings through the air.

"Is that Queen Glory's palace?" an icy voice says in awe. "I've never been here before."

I look up at the canopy. On top of the cliff, there is a huge treehouse with bamboo supports and very thin leaves over the windows. Flowers are strung over the whole complex, and there is an air of importance surrounding it. A RainWing stands on the balcony, clutching a locket in her hands.

"Should we go?" I ask. "I'm not sure Queen Glory is happy."

"Well, I don't think we really have a choice," Aurora says. "I'm not sure that any other RainWings know how to get back to the academy."

She promptly flies up to Queen Glory. Meanwhile, _I _have to climb all the way up the cliff because I don't want to put any strain on my wing. It's hard, but I've climbed before, so I think I can manage.

"Go away, you," I mutter, flicking away a tree frog that has adhered to the side of the cliff. It lands on the leaf of a tree nearby, sticking there. I groan and start to climb.

The climb is long and exhausting, and I have to stop several times to catch my breath. But I make it up there, and Queen Glory is not pleased that I came. She glares at me as I step onto the balcony.

"Don't invade my privacy, please," Glory says, closing a locket hastily. "I hate you SkyWings."

"What's in the locket that you don't want me seeing?" I probe. "Why did you close it when you came out here, even though you just showed it to Aurora?"

"Nothing that _you'd _be interested in, whomever-you-are," Glory snaps crankily. "I don't trust you; Scarlet may be dead, but she's still a major figure in religion."

I point to my horns, my normal-sized wings, the golden patterns on my wings. "So… All RainWings are gullible, then. I'm not from any tribe you've heard of."

Aurora nods. "It's true, she's not kidding. Do I have to call you Your Majesty?"

Glory's scales briefly shift to purple, then back to the shade of black they were before. "No, Aurora. And I suppose I can tell you what happened, um… SkyWing?"

"My name is Rhodi," I say. And I'm a TechWing."

"My boyfriend died." Glory glances to the other side of the balcony. At first, I think she's just staring off into space, but then my eyes catch the NightWing statue there. "Deathbringer loved me, and I tried so hard to hide that the feeling was mutual, but just recently, about six months ago… My secret slipped, and we started dating. Those few months… Like Elysium, but so short."

She sniffs. "Then, Deathbringer was killed by who-knows-what, and we never found the corpse. We'd only been dating for less than half a year."

Glory's face hardens. "You know enough about my love life now," she says sternly. "Now OUT!"

I race out of the palace, followed by Aurora. Wow, this hole in my wing is taxing. Aurora's graceful aerial loops don't help.

"Stop flying," I complain. "I have this annoying hole in my wing now."

"Sorry," Aurora says. "Force of habit. Doesn't it seem sad that Deathbringer died?"

I feel no emotion for the RainWing queen, but I lie and say what Aurora wants to hear. "Yes. The worst part is, well… I'm a bit of a scrollworm, so don't judge if what I say sounds crazy.

"Something's telling me that Deathbringer… He's still alive."


	15. Interlude 2- Deathbringer

Deathbringer clawed at the chains entangling him, though he knew it was hopeless. "_Why _are you guys holding me prisoner?!" he snarled. "I have to protect Queen Glory back home! She can't control two of Pyrrhia's tribes at once! The rainforest is far too big for her to rule…"

Deathbringer winced as he realized what he'd said. They might know who she was, and where her realm stretched. Say… Where were the scavengers taking him, anyway?

"We lost the last great war," the scavenger said. "They also stole one of our best legendary creatures. They won't get away with this."

Deathbringer concentrated. His tribe wasn't supposed to have any psychic powers- count out Moonwatcher and Darkstalker- but he _could _have fleeting glimpses of the past sometimes. "Well, maybe your creature didn't _want_ to live with scavengers who capture animals and force them to battle for a living. Maybe she escaped on her _own _and is happier in Pyrrhia then she was living wherever _you _live."

The scavenger winced. Clearly, he wasn't used to being talked to like this. Deathbringer could see it in his eyes.

"We don't make them battle _just _for _entertainment. _Now shut up and be a good prisoner."

Deathbringer groaned as the scavenger pressed cloth up to his mouth to gag him. "Try and talk back now, you meddling creature."

**Okay. Deathbringer survived, but he's being imprisoned. But by whom… Hmmm… **

** Piece together the hints. You know what's happening, even if you don't know you do. Let's just say that the dragons might share their planet with something even **_**Starflight **_**has never heard of…**

** Let's just say that despite the amount of chapters I have left in this story, I'm already working on the sequel. Who doesn't love intergalactic warfare?**


	16. Aurora 6

"Really?" I say. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, I read probably about a scroll a day, and plus, this kind of thing happens a lot," Rhodi points out. "So… what are we going to do now that we're stuck out in the RainWing kingdom without any way to get back to Jade Mountain?"

The question hits me like a gust of warm air from the SandWing kingdom. I don't know what to do! We're just going to be bored, and all because I didn't ask Glory how to get back to the school. WHY?!

"I think it's somewhere in the east," I finally say, pointing in what I think is the right direction. The sun sets in the east every night, and yes, it's setting now. "What happened when I was in the hospital?"

**Yes, the sun sets in the East in Pyrrhia. They never mention where it sets in the books, so I just made Pyrrhia a different planet. Of course, that's not to say it's the ONLY continent on the planet. That would be weird, right?**

** Not that it's true, though.**

Uh, what?

"Oh, nothing that exciting," Rhodi says lightly. "Moonwatcher really wanted to know what a HallowWing was, so I told her. How did- ahem- 'Khepri' knock you out so easily?"

"I don't know." I really don't; I'd never even heard of a HallowWing before a few days ago. "Anything on the Scorching that I missed?"

"Actually, a lot." Rhodi tosses aside a large air plant that _was_ in her way. I follow her lead, ignoring all of the mosquitoes trying to make sure I'm all out of blood. "Darkstalker had a pretty frightening vision, though."

"What?"

Rhodi hesitates. "Promise you won't laugh at me."

"I won't."

**I won't laugh at you.**

"Shush," Rhodi tells the narrator. "He had a vision that we got attacked by animation game characters and plastic toy people."

"That_ is_ a little ridiculous," I say. "Can I change the subject? Is it different in the TechWing kingdom?"

"Affirmative," she says. "It's kind of split into two sides: the Mechanics and the Splicers. The Mechanics are the side that my dad, Vulcan, comes from, and my mom, Clockwork, is a Splicer. The Splicers support modifying DNA with software like Crispr, and the Mechanics are more into—"

"DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?!" I shout. "What IS it with you and long words?"

"Sorry," she says as she heats her claw and uses it to slice through a branch, "it's kind of this habit I picked up so I could annoy Marie. Besides, it's not like she's gonna know what it means if I call her loquacious, right?"

A moth flutters onto my snout. I drop the bow I got from Tsunami's classroom and claw at it. "Get it OFF of me!"

"You're overreacting a bit," the annoying TechWing points out. "It's not like an anaconda tried to strangle you or anything."

I look down at all of the pus that came out of the acne on my snout while I was trying to shoo away the moth. I drill my claws into the dirt in an effort to get it off. "Maybe," I say, embarrassed, but I try to smile. "I think you shouldn't complain, considering how you handled the fact that Khepri called you 'automaton girl'."

"Maybe you're right."

"True. IceWings are supposed to act like the other tribes in Pyrrhia are sissies who don't leave their own territories and that we know the whole planet. Then you come along and… Grandma is not going to like this."

"Considering she's the queen of your tribe…"

"Which means it'll be pretty embarrassing if she doesn't know the tribes that her own heir is interacting with-"

"Which means that IceWings are not all that superior," Rhodi finishes for me. "Are we going to go back now?"

"Sure," I say. "And yes, it _is _a little annoying that Grandma always brags about our 'awesome superiority-ness'. What's life like in the TechWing kingdom? Are there schools there?"

Where to start. The whole walk home is filled with stories of animation games that put the ones in the NightWing kingdom to shame- "The whole game is based on firing a gun that makes portals and getting to the next room!"- And Rhodi's retelling of the beginning of the Steampunk Age of Pyrrhia. "It feels good to see other tribes using our ideas to create things that are purely their own."

She leans on a baobab tree to catch her breath before asking the question, the one I dread above all others.

"What's it like in the Ice kingdom?"

I don't want to answer. My life there was harsh and lonely, with only my grandmother to provide safety and happiness. My own brother never let me look after him, and Grandmacared about me and Argentum. I was mocked constantly and friendless because I am short and have a weird wing shape. I haven't told anyone this yet, but Glacier's advisor almost prevented me from being born.

"It's fine," she says. I realize that I haven't said anything for the last two minutes or so. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

"No," I say. "You just… wouldn't want to live there."

"Oh." Rhodi makes a circle on the ground with her claw. I realize we're still in the jungle and I hardly ate for the last few days. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

She and I walk back to the academy in silence.

…..

_Pyrrhia is a land that I have never heard of, a land of dragons, like me, that has more than just the creatures on this side of the continent. I want to escape and go there, but my scavenger will not let me._

_ "Come back!" he shouts as I fly away from the prison that he calls my home, the cruel building that he calls my gymnasium. The other continent will be much better than this; their youth are given real homes and gyms that you can actually play lacrosse in and not get killed trying to find a team, considering how hostile the other beings can be. "You're our planet's last hope!"_

_ And my own last hope if I don't escape is death. But there is one question: How can I pretend to be one of the Pyrrhian children and fit in well? My scavenger has already changed me in ways I hate; could it be done again? _

_ I claw the air at the thought of it. I don't want to do that, but if—_

"OW!" Something that feels like blubber drips onto my face. I open my eyes and a red-brown foot kicks me. "If you didn't notice, I am _trying _to serve you breakfast!"

"I'm a vivid dreamer," I say. Rhodi puts down the stone tray and slumps down on her bed. "What?"

"Eat," she hisses. "It's nearly eleven, and you missed your first four classes."

Rhodi stomps out of the room. I shovel a bite or two of seal meat down my throat and check my schedule. Today, I have Art at eleven, so why not go?

I'm almost late. The sound of the gong comes right after I enter the classroom. Only my Winglet is in the room today. I take the last easel and open the box of paints that sits next to it.

"Mightyclaws?" Arion says. The tiny teal and yellow SeaWing looks around confused. I don't blame him. The teacher is nowhere to be seen.

"I don't know where he is," Geb, the MudWing, says in response. "Don't touch anything. I have this under control."

We sit in silence for five, no, ten, fifteen minutes. Diana opens her paints and starts to apply a little bit of acrylic to the canvas.

More silence, broken only by Rhodi starting to whistle some song I don't recognize.

Suddenly, I hear an "ahem" from the doorway. I turn around and see Mightyclaws standing in the doorway.

"Sorry about that," he says. "I had a little, shall we say… _encounter _in the hallway. But that's all behind us now. Let's not dwell on the past."

Sorry?! Encounter?! SERIOUSLY! We were in here for THIRTY MINUTES STRAIGHT! UGH! THAT F—

**Bleep!**

PIECE OF—

**Bleep!**

What are you _doing?!_

**I don't want to hear you swear!**

Not funny.

"All right, so everyone, take out a graphite—"

Mightyclaws doesn't get to finish his sentence. Because before he gets to speak, a figure leaps from out of the archway, tackling Mightyclaws and bringing him straight out of sight. I want to move but can't, and neither can anyone else in the room. We just stare.

Geb is first to move. He ushers us to follow him, but beyond the doorway is… nothing. Mightyclaws, along with his attacker, has vanished.

Diana suddenly cracks as she realizes what has happened. She glides away, probably to tell Tsunami what happened. Why, though? Maybe she's just trying to get out of school for a while.

…..

I try to balance my huge platter of whale meat and polar bear as I make my way across the prey center. I had a tiny breakfast, so why not indulge myself at lunch?

Asgard stares at my plate as I seat myself in the last open chair. "You're disgusting."

I ignore him and shovel the rich meal into my mouth anyway. I look up for a brief moment to see a paper note in very weird and disorganized handwriting drop onto the table. I reach over and unfold it.

_Aurora-_

_ Meet the rest of the Winglet and me in the library tonight at 8:30. Don't be late. Bring drawing supplies._

_ -Geb_

_ P.S. Do you know anything about solving mysteries?_


	17. Rhodi 7

"Did you get that note from Geb saying that we're gonna be solving a MYSTERY?! OhmygodohmygodOHMAGOD! This is SO exciting!"

Aurora gives me a bored look. "Go away."

"You kidding me?" I reply. "We NEED to do this! You see, there's this website called TV Tropes that I'm totally addicted to, and one of the tropes on the website is called They Fight Crime! We could be a crime-fighting duo and totally BEAT UP the bad guys. But you need to learn what TV Tropes is first. It's the most awesome, addictive website EVER, and it has all these different tropes like Rule of Cool, Ninja Pirate Zombie Robot, Pokemon Speak, Accidental Nightmare Fuel… Shoot, I've gotta go to quantum physics class…"

"Hold on," she says. "Exactly how many classes did you sign up for?"

Let's see. Orchestra, quantum physics, introduction to trigonometry, quantum physics, battle training, weapons…

"Twenty," I say.

"Okay," she responds nonchalantly. I don't know what that word means, it just sounds cool and I haven't gotten a chance to look it up yet. I sprint down the hallway. "Wait… what?"

Quantum physics is one of my favorite topics to discuss, so I'm excited for class. I go into the classroom and wait at my desk for the teacher, Firestarter, to come in. The dragon in front of me jots down equations in his notescroll furiously, probably to impress the teacher. I roll my eyes and sigh. Show-off.

Finally, the gong rings and Firestarter enters the room. He sits down on his podium and scans the room with his eyes, like a robot. A robot that looks distinctly like a NightWing.

"Welcome, class, and—oh, what have we here?" His eyes fixate on me, and I feel like my soul is burning out from the inside. "A half-breed? Well, by the laws of our tribe, half-breeds are impure and are executed once born. You shouldn't exist. Come on—you know what you are."

I'm not a half-breed. If you must know, the reason my horns are ribbed like they are is because I tried to trim them myself when I was little. They grew back bumpy.

"Or I'll come to you."

"No," I gasp out. "Don't touch me. Where were you… a few lunches ago?"

"Well then," he says. "Now…"

He steps towards my seat, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Everyone's heads turn as I struggle to leave my seat. Whoever was sitting here last must have been chewing chicle gum.

I say a few bad words under my breath, which only makes him advance even closer.

Two steps until he gets here.

One step.

I'm screwed.

Firestarter pulls a whip out from under his belt and starts to twirl it. It cracks twice.

And then my life is basically over.

Because he brings the whip down on me and doesn't stop. Each lash leaves blood and pain, my back feeling raw and my blood trickling down, so I wish I didn't have shark steak boiled in salt water for lunch, because now my blood is salty and makes the wounds hurt even worse. I see my life flashing by my eyes now. I relive the time I announced my atheism, the first in a family that had been Baptist for who-knows-how-long, and the shock and misery it brought to my family members' faces. Mom has never done one nice thing with me since.

I remember the first time I ever flew, and how I will never feel the pure joy of doing that again, because now my ability to fly is gone, like a life of one who lived through the Scorching.

And my memory takes me back through misery, all of the things I wanted to do that now I'll never get to, because I will be killed by my own teacher. I now know why Sunny, who I met a few years ago, was not present in any of these classrooms. Firestarter killed her. She's gone, gone to torture to the point of death. And why the handsome young hybrid son of Moonwatcher and Winter disappeared from the school. This teacher, he wishes to keep the NightWing bloodline pure and untainted, for who knows how long.

And then, it stops.

"STOP!" Aurora yells from the doorway. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO HER?!"

Firestarter glances up, and catches sight of her scales and roars. "WHY IN THE BLAZES ARE YOU ALIVE?! YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!"

He leaves me alone, and bolts towards Aurora. I am all of a sudden free from the chicle binding me to my seat. I turn around. Frostbite the IceWing winks at me.

Right outside the room in the hall, Aurora wrestles with Firestarter. He has the whip, but Aurora has skill. She treats him to a _Dragon Ball Z-_ esque kamehameha wave of ice, from both her mouth and… her talons? But she falls to his whip eventually.

I limp out to the hallway and stand in front of her. "Leave her alone," I croak. But what happens next…

"NO!" Aurora screams. Gigavolts of electricity shoot off her scales and I let go of her. Her expression reads as _frightened _and _shocked_, but she directs the electricity onto Firestarter and burns his scales badly.

A scavenger sprints out and points one of those scavenger devices at Aurora. And she's gone, vanished in a flash of light like the blue-white star Pyrrhia orbits around. Firestarter, almost bloodier than I am, struts towards me, sadistic and evil and giving me a smirk worthy of an evil overlord.

I have a sudden burst of adrenaline. I burst out of the front doors of the school and flap hard enough to lift me up into the air, and fast, because I don't want to be caught by the evil teacher. _F-_

**LANGUAGE, RHODI!**

_Um, I guess I won't have to worry about chemistry anymore , _I think, as my wings start to lift me through the atmosphere and I feel the supposedly normal burn of the atmosphere right now. My blood drips onto the ground, and I don't want to do anything except _die _right now.

And all I can do is flap, as I lift myself closer and closer to the vacuum of space and close my eyes…


	18. Aurora 7

The first thing I hear is a voice. A voice reciting an almost poetic speech.

"Ice. The bane of life. Strong, beautiful, yet so easily shattered. Life almost cannot wield the type, the element, which is hard enough to fight off that only fire could possibly stop it in its tracks. Cold, and hard, and practical, like titanium or steel, the perfect analogy for where the element has come out in an entity on this planet. It is transparent, yet holds, finds, and shares many secrets, but can rarely hold life, it is often found that it is not life at all. Except sometimes it isn't ice at all, which happens more often than—OH COME ON I CAN'T DO POETRY!"

I open one eye, but there is no dragon in sight to deliver that beautiful bit of speech. A dark-eyed scavenger with spiked hair stands about ten footlengths away from me, observing the stars. I was interested in astronomy when I was little, and the stars here are too few in number and not familiar to me.

The scavenger turns around and, surprisingly, speaks. "So you have awoken, Svartur. I have been waiting for you to do so for two straight fortnights. I find it surprising that you have not found out your own secret yet."

"You talk," I say, dumbfounded. "What does Svartur mean?"

"Icelandic for black," it says. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself before. Very sorry. Probably should've done that _before _reciting random poetry. My name is-"

**Oh great, now the random name generator I found is giving me names I don't like. Hmm… check all boxes that apply—I AM NOT NAMING HIM ZANE CONFUCIUS BADCOCKE! I KNOW IT HAS TO DO WITH ICE BECAUSE (removed because of the potential obscurity of the reference) BUT STILL! ALL RIGHT, GIMME A NAME THAT SOUNDS DECENT, NAME GENERATOR! **

-"Irvin Ásgeir Beckett," he finishes. "I swear I was just interrupted by something, for some reason. Maybe Arceus, or another higher power. I don't know. Do you think so, Sv-"

"MY NAME IS AURORA, IVAN ASGARD SOMETHING-OR-OTHER-"

"Ah, but maybe it wasn't originally, Svartur, or, as you may call yourself, Aurora. For you actually are—"

"DON'T SAY I'M SOMETHING I'M NOT!" I snap back. I realize I am standing on two legs, but I only tremble a little bit. I didn't even realize I stood up. "Why did you drag me here?"

He hesitates, looking up into the night sky. I had an astronomy obsession when I was little, and none of the constellations are native to Pyrrhia. It's uncanny and creeps me out and I hate it. Irvin's breath is barely visible in the cool, crisp air.

Finally he answers. "I brought you here because we need you. From being disconnected from Pyrrhia for over five thousand years- you do call it the Scorching, the war, right?- anyway, we have to fight for our rights to free travel between our continent and theirs. Before peace, there's almost always war, as my fourth-grade history teacher always said. I mean, war can come before the peace, but in this case, no. And that war cannot be prevented.

"There is a third continent on this planet. Actually, it's a supercontinent, but still. It's the third continent. They are really advanced in their militaries and technology, and I won't say they don't have a nice toy market, either. Hey, what? I could use you to-"

"AND WHY ME OVER ANY OTHER DRAGON, YOU SON OF A—"

Silence. He doesn't respond for a few minutes. Finally, he opens his mouth.

"I , as you said, dragged you here, because you are actually not from Pyrrhia. You are the legendary Pokemon, Black Kyurem, or, as some trainers say more recently, Kyurem Svartur. You are the equivalent of a god here, and you are the key to the war on Pyrrhia."

At this moment, everything I always knew, everything I ever thought right, comes crashing down around me. And I react in the only way I could possibly get it out.

"NO!" I scream, even though I know how little it will fix. The cut is already made, a wound, deeper than any weapon could make, no matter how sharp the blade, no matter how well it could crush me. "I DON'T WANT TO BE A GOD! I DON'T WANT TO WAGE WAR ON MY HOMELAND! PLEASE!"

Irvin just gives me a sad look and shakes his head. Because I know he knows the damage has been done.

Because the only wound that cannot heal is the one inflicted upon your soul.

**By the way, I grant Aurora of the IceWings the right to use Rhodi's character and a bunch of other stuff from my Fanfiction. In real life, we are close friends, and I simply posted the story on here first. Bye!**


	19. Epilogue

_Our homes fall down around us,_

_Like a house of cards…_

_Dreams turn into fallout zones,_

_Our lives forever scarred…_

_Your world may be not what it seems,_

_Or at least what it's a part of…_

_As hope is lost, and peace is gone,_

_And all those shattered loves…_

_Nothing ever stays the same,_

_As long as creation exists,_

_We worship different pantheons,_

_Oh, how long is the list..._

_I'd like to see one day, a place,_

_Where we all live in peace,_

_Leave behind our differences,_

_Such as personality and race…_

_I wish that my dream could come true,_

_My highly impossible fantasy._

_Oh maybe it could, maybe it would,_

_If something stayed the same…_

**END OF BOOK ONE**


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